Now this isn't the "once upon a time" or "a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away" type of story. This isn't even the type of story where everyone realizes the power of friendship as it conquers the clearly more well-equipped villain--and no, this isn't SPARTA. None of it rhymes, and there aren't an aggressive number of made-up words blanketing reality. Without further ado, the story:
Poe Newman always caught a lot of flak for his name. Sharing a name with a Teletubby isn't exactly the most desirable undertaking--and it certainly isn't one he chose. Slightly dorky throughout elementary school, (though, let's be honest, who wasn't?) Poe never felt completely accepted by his peers. He excelled in academia, but then, loneliness will expedite learning when you've nothing better to do than focus on the cold, hard facts of education. As he shuffled home from the bus stop one afternoon, his 7-year-old feet bounding him up the stairs to his patio in the upper-middle-class reaches of his quiet town, he heard a voice calling him over to the family mommy-van.
"Poe, honey, put your backpack inside and come to the van." Poe's mother's voice was soothing and rich--when he could no longer handle the stress of subtracting 2-digit numbers, she was always the perfect remedy.
Poe darted as fast as his stubby legs could take him. This outing was unplanned, and the Newman family liked to stick to a rigid schedule. Perhaps that would explain his socially-awkward nature. Still, on this day, his mother held back a smile as they backed out of the driveway and drove into town, past the other schoolchildren walking home with their books in hand and their eyes pointed down.
"I was going to wait to tell you, but I've decided it's time you have a pet. Your father and I are sometimes busy and we figured you might like a dog to keep you company." Poe cringed. The thought of opening up to another being, let alone a stupid, slobbering ball of fur, reliable as it may be, terrified him. Still, there was no escape. He loved his mother too much to even politely let her know that he wasn't interested. Instead, he feigned the most innocent of smiles and awaited the pound.
It was just as he imagined. It was dimly lit--misery pervading. He started to suspect his mother was pulling his leg, and that she would actually take him for ice cream. He started to thank the lord that he only had a leg to pull, and humans had evolved from a tail long ago, because when he observed the volunteers yanking the puppies from their kennels by them, the whimpers and cries were enough to convince him to be content to go without.
"Pick one, Poe. It's up to you. Just remember, you have to take care of it. Maybe something smaller--something that won't shed so much..."
He stood stoic. Judgment day was here. He was being forced to select a creature with which he would share intimate secrets. He couldn't do it--it was too much to ask of a 7-year old who just learned how to tie his own shoes and to whom riding a bike was such a perplexing and difficult request.
Then he saw the cats. Poe didn't know much about much, but he had observed on Saturday-morning cartoons that cats are regal creatures--perhaps not as dependable as dogs, but they require far less attention. He needed an out, and this was it.
Cats are smart. They don't need my affection. They certainly don't ask for any favors or hand any out. And they aren't annoying enough to feel compelled to follow you around. They can think for themselves, almost. I'm not about to spend all my time nurturing a dog that doesn't care whether or not I try.
His mom took notice of his silence and offered, "Poe, dear, we can go home if you'd like." Her disappointment was dripping and Poe couldn't ignore it. Instead, he marched down the row of cages, eyeing each one.
Everything he suspected about cats appeared true--quiet, content, airing on the snobbish side. There were grey, mangy ones with hate in their eyes, and plump, white masses turning their scrunched little faces away, as though they were ashamed to be seen in such a setting with such company. They all purred and meowed, voicing their disgust, and Poe certainly would have loved to agree publicly, had he not been stressing to please his mother.
Then there was this one. It was a small, orange striped Munchkin. A tiny little thing, as its breed suggested, but perhaps the runt of the litter. Its eyes held a glimmer of hope--hope dashed with fear. The glimmer spoke volumes of its character. It feared for its life in a place it understood was dangerous, and it feared confrontation. Secretly, it hoped no one would adopt it, because that only meant having to coexist with a human--the creature who rejected it initially. Poe understood its plight. It was lonely, awaiting the judgment day. It was lonely like him. If he had to pick something, and he did, it was at least going to be an animal eh could identify with. This was the one. Poe pointed as a slight grin spread across his face.
They drove home with the new family member in the back seat--stuck in an even smaller cage than before. Quickly the bars were shrinking in on him, too, as he could feel the reality of his situation closing fast. Gone was the isolation. The familiar, comforting sound of clamor enveloping the empty space could never be reclaimed. Strangely enough, the small little ball of fur was panicking as it was thrust into a family, because the darkness of isolation is a life not easily abandoned.
It took some getting used to, but Poe and Dipsy--that's what he named him, partially out of resentment that he was the only one he knew with a Teletubby name, partially because it sounded like an appropriate cat name--eventually warmed up to one another. Poe would come home from school and try and teach Dipsy the rules to lava monster, or that "a lot" is actually 2, distinct words. Everything he felt he couldn't share his excitement about with other children, he shared with Dipsy. Being a kitten, he required a fair bit of attention. Initially this was much to Poe's disdain, but after learning to open up to a genuine creature such as Dipsy, it became second nature to nurture his own little fur-ball. Furthermore, Poe and Dipsy developed their own way of communicating. Poe could ask him if he was hungry by patting his tummy in just the right spot, and Dipsy, more often than not, would open his mouth up wide and begin cackling an alien, grotesque cackle that only a brother could love. They truly were--brothers, that is. In the summer, Dipsy came camping with them, and in the fall, Poe would rake the leaves into piles for him to jump into. Frustrating for anyone else, probably, but having to rake the leaves 8 or 9 times over was only an investment for Poe. It seemed the two were inseparable, and occasionally, Mrs. Newman would walk down the hall late at night and see Poe's bedroom light still on, only to find that they had fallen asleep cuddling with a bedtime story falling slowly out of Poe's relaxed, outstretched hand. Loneliness became the past, and they journeyed on into a life of camaraderie.
The summer before middle school changed Poe. He began to try new foods, take walks outside with Dipsy, feel the tall grass in the fields behind his house. By the time 6th grade had rolled around, he had seen just about every intricacy of his little town and eaten just about everything it had to offer. With a bit of culture and experience, he was able to confidently interact with a few of his peers. He finally had a best friend--besides Dipsy, of course--named Josh. Josh and Poe were a dynamic duo--smart, adventurous, and cunning. Out in the fields behind Poe's house, they would rig traps for rodents and see how many they could catch. Whoever had more by the end of the day won, and the loser bought Slurpees. 7th and 8th grade only brought on more adventures.
The bell rang on the last day of school before winter break. Amid the screaming and cheering and papers floating to the ground while students ran for their parents' cars, Josh and Poe ambled out to the bus stop. They rode the same route every day.
"Hey man, I was wondering if you wanted to come over, seeing as how it isn't a school night and all. Maybe you could sleep over."
Poe froze. He had never had a sleepover with anyone besides Dipsy, but that doesn't count. Josh was really his only human friend, and he had never offered. Poe, certainly, was too nervous to ask. He didn't wish to overstep his boundaries. Yet here he was, practically shaking with a mixture of terror and excitement. Play it cool, he told himself.
"Poe? You okay?"
He snapped back into the present and voiced his willingness.
"Sweet. You can just get off on my stop then and we'll walk to my house. We can find you a toothbrush."
A new chapter had begun.
Poe never knew the joys of spending the night at someone else's house before. He was treated like royalty--Josh's mom practically waited on them as though she was working for tips. They talked, played on the trampoline, and mercilessly slaughtered people in the new Call of Duty. Neither of them was particularly great at the game, so they would laugh every time their head exploded or one of them would freak out as soon as an enemy came on screen. The rare victory was punctuated with an "OHHHHHHHHH!!!" or two. When night time came, and they decided they needed some sleep at last, they stayed up talking about all the cute girls and what high school would be like. Poe had no idea. He was content, though, at last.
High school finally did come, and Poe, while rather bright, was pressured to work hard.
"College won't let just anyone in," his mother would say. He knew. He stressed about it every day, and studying began to consume much more of his time. When he wasn't studying, though, he hung out with Josh and their new friend, another, even quieter boy, named Terry. The three of them went to lunch every day and shared almost every class with each other. Sleepovers were no longer a rare occurrence. It seemed Poe was away more than he was home, and Dipsy took notice. When Poe would return after 3 or 4 nights at Terry's, Dipsy would be waiting with his sad eyes. Even though he was no longer a kitten, he could whimper and cry all the same. It crushed Poe every time. Still, he would leave.
There was one girl, in Poe's English class his sophomore year, who he would steal glances at. She was the most beautiful, most perfect woman in the whole world, he thought. And he had the utmost respect for her intellect--she was near the top of the class. Amber--with hair exactly as her name suggested. He would never dare approach her, however. When she caught him staring he would immediately avert his eyes. What he didn't realize is, her giggling was of flattery, not of pity or mockery. Terry and Josh took notice--they tried to talk him up to her, but she wanted, more than anything, for him to be assertive. As soon as they told him, he was all bravado. Poe was gone. This was Ram-Poe. Poe Norris. Poe Diesel, even. The Fonz looked like a child compared to this new man. They immediately started dating, and it never ceased. Throughout high school, they became inseparable. When she met Dipsy, she fell in love, and the three of them would occasionally spend time together watching movies on his couch, though they could never remember the plot, curiously enough... Little by little, though, that time shrank away. Soon, especially when Poe got a car--a used limousine, because it was cheap and he could guilt-trip his friends into paying for gasoline when they all rode with him--they stopped including Dipsy altogether. He had no time, working hard in school and taking Amber out every weekend. As a senior in high school, there was simply no room in his schedule for his childhood kitten, even if he was his best friend for life. For life, he told himself. That's what a pet is for--to love you unconditionally.
Poe walked in the door late one evening--he had just seen a scary movie with Amber and drove her home around midnight. The house was still, eerie. Only the sounds of the heater could be heard as it combated the frigid harshness of winter. He removed his scarf and hung it up on the rack. Something was different though. The coat rack had always been low--within Dipsy's reach, and when Poe came home, Dipsy was always there to scratch his wool clothes. He went through about a scarf every few days in the winter. Mackelmore became his Messiah.
This time, however, there was no deathly scraping noise. There were no satisfied meows to assuage that noise either. Poe searched around. Dipsy's bed was empty. The couch was desolate. Poe's room was dark and quiet, and the sheets were not ruffled and housing a mischievous ball of fur with a Teletubby's name.
Dipsy was gone.
Poe was a mess. Still, he understood. He knew all too well why Dipsy had left. You see cats are smart. They don't need your affection. They certainly don't ask for any favors or hand any out. And they aren't annoying enough to feel compelled to follow you around. They can think for themselves, almost. They understand that, when people push them aside, they aren't wanted anymore. Their purpose has been taken away, and they, like most creatures, don't appreciate being cast aside. Poe knew how that felt better than anyone. He simply forgot.
Then he saw the cats. Poe didn't know much about much, but he had observed on Saturday-morning cartoons that cats are regal creatures--perhaps not as dependable as dogs, but they require far less attention. He needed an out, and this was it.
Cats are smart. They don't need my affection. They certainly don't ask for any favors or hand any out. And they aren't annoying enough to feel compelled to follow you around. They can think for themselves, almost. I'm not about to spend all my time nurturing a dog that doesn't care whether or not I try.
His mom took notice of his silence and offered, "Poe, dear, we can go home if you'd like." Her disappointment was dripping and Poe couldn't ignore it. Instead, he marched down the row of cages, eyeing each one.
Everything he suspected about cats appeared true--quiet, content, airing on the snobbish side. There were grey, mangy ones with hate in their eyes, and plump, white masses turning their scrunched little faces away, as though they were ashamed to be seen in such a setting with such company. They all purred and meowed, voicing their disgust, and Poe certainly would have loved to agree publicly, had he not been stressing to please his mother.
Then there was this one. It was a small, orange striped Munchkin. A tiny little thing, as its breed suggested, but perhaps the runt of the litter. Its eyes held a glimmer of hope--hope dashed with fear. The glimmer spoke volumes of its character. It feared for its life in a place it understood was dangerous, and it feared confrontation. Secretly, it hoped no one would adopt it, because that only meant having to coexist with a human--the creature who rejected it initially. Poe understood its plight. It was lonely, awaiting the judgment day. It was lonely like him. If he had to pick something, and he did, it was at least going to be an animal eh could identify with. This was the one. Poe pointed as a slight grin spread across his face.
They drove home with the new family member in the back seat--stuck in an even smaller cage than before. Quickly the bars were shrinking in on him, too, as he could feel the reality of his situation closing fast. Gone was the isolation. The familiar, comforting sound of clamor enveloping the empty space could never be reclaimed. Strangely enough, the small little ball of fur was panicking as it was thrust into a family, because the darkness of isolation is a life not easily abandoned.
It took some getting used to, but Poe and Dipsy--that's what he named him, partially out of resentment that he was the only one he knew with a Teletubby name, partially because it sounded like an appropriate cat name--eventually warmed up to one another. Poe would come home from school and try and teach Dipsy the rules to lava monster, or that "a lot" is actually 2, distinct words. Everything he felt he couldn't share his excitement about with other children, he shared with Dipsy. Being a kitten, he required a fair bit of attention. Initially this was much to Poe's disdain, but after learning to open up to a genuine creature such as Dipsy, it became second nature to nurture his own little fur-ball. Furthermore, Poe and Dipsy developed their own way of communicating. Poe could ask him if he was hungry by patting his tummy in just the right spot, and Dipsy, more often than not, would open his mouth up wide and begin cackling an alien, grotesque cackle that only a brother could love. They truly were--brothers, that is. In the summer, Dipsy came camping with them, and in the fall, Poe would rake the leaves into piles for him to jump into. Frustrating for anyone else, probably, but having to rake the leaves 8 or 9 times over was only an investment for Poe. It seemed the two were inseparable, and occasionally, Mrs. Newman would walk down the hall late at night and see Poe's bedroom light still on, only to find that they had fallen asleep cuddling with a bedtime story falling slowly out of Poe's relaxed, outstretched hand. Loneliness became the past, and they journeyed on into a life of camaraderie.
The summer before middle school changed Poe. He began to try new foods, take walks outside with Dipsy, feel the tall grass in the fields behind his house. By the time 6th grade had rolled around, he had seen just about every intricacy of his little town and eaten just about everything it had to offer. With a bit of culture and experience, he was able to confidently interact with a few of his peers. He finally had a best friend--besides Dipsy, of course--named Josh. Josh and Poe were a dynamic duo--smart, adventurous, and cunning. Out in the fields behind Poe's house, they would rig traps for rodents and see how many they could catch. Whoever had more by the end of the day won, and the loser bought Slurpees. 7th and 8th grade only brought on more adventures.
The bell rang on the last day of school before winter break. Amid the screaming and cheering and papers floating to the ground while students ran for their parents' cars, Josh and Poe ambled out to the bus stop. They rode the same route every day.
"Hey man, I was wondering if you wanted to come over, seeing as how it isn't a school night and all. Maybe you could sleep over."
Poe froze. He had never had a sleepover with anyone besides Dipsy, but that doesn't count. Josh was really his only human friend, and he had never offered. Poe, certainly, was too nervous to ask. He didn't wish to overstep his boundaries. Yet here he was, practically shaking with a mixture of terror and excitement. Play it cool, he told himself.
"Poe? You okay?"
He snapped back into the present and voiced his willingness.
"Sweet. You can just get off on my stop then and we'll walk to my house. We can find you a toothbrush."
A new chapter had begun.
Poe never knew the joys of spending the night at someone else's house before. He was treated like royalty--Josh's mom practically waited on them as though she was working for tips. They talked, played on the trampoline, and mercilessly slaughtered people in the new Call of Duty. Neither of them was particularly great at the game, so they would laugh every time their head exploded or one of them would freak out as soon as an enemy came on screen. The rare victory was punctuated with an "OHHHHHHHHH!!!" or two. When night time came, and they decided they needed some sleep at last, they stayed up talking about all the cute girls and what high school would be like. Poe had no idea. He was content, though, at last.
High school finally did come, and Poe, while rather bright, was pressured to work hard.
"College won't let just anyone in," his mother would say. He knew. He stressed about it every day, and studying began to consume much more of his time. When he wasn't studying, though, he hung out with Josh and their new friend, another, even quieter boy, named Terry. The three of them went to lunch every day and shared almost every class with each other. Sleepovers were no longer a rare occurrence. It seemed Poe was away more than he was home, and Dipsy took notice. When Poe would return after 3 or 4 nights at Terry's, Dipsy would be waiting with his sad eyes. Even though he was no longer a kitten, he could whimper and cry all the same. It crushed Poe every time. Still, he would leave.
There was one girl, in Poe's English class his sophomore year, who he would steal glances at. She was the most beautiful, most perfect woman in the whole world, he thought. And he had the utmost respect for her intellect--she was near the top of the class. Amber--with hair exactly as her name suggested. He would never dare approach her, however. When she caught him staring he would immediately avert his eyes. What he didn't realize is, her giggling was of flattery, not of pity or mockery. Terry and Josh took notice--they tried to talk him up to her, but she wanted, more than anything, for him to be assertive. As soon as they told him, he was all bravado. Poe was gone. This was Ram-Poe. Poe Norris. Poe Diesel, even. The Fonz looked like a child compared to this new man. They immediately started dating, and it never ceased. Throughout high school, they became inseparable. When she met Dipsy, she fell in love, and the three of them would occasionally spend time together watching movies on his couch, though they could never remember the plot, curiously enough... Little by little, though, that time shrank away. Soon, especially when Poe got a car--a used limousine, because it was cheap and he could guilt-trip his friends into paying for gasoline when they all rode with him--they stopped including Dipsy altogether. He had no time, working hard in school and taking Amber out every weekend. As a senior in high school, there was simply no room in his schedule for his childhood kitten, even if he was his best friend for life. For life, he told himself. That's what a pet is for--to love you unconditionally.
Poe walked in the door late one evening--he had just seen a scary movie with Amber and drove her home around midnight. The house was still, eerie. Only the sounds of the heater could be heard as it combated the frigid harshness of winter. He removed his scarf and hung it up on the rack. Something was different though. The coat rack had always been low--within Dipsy's reach, and when Poe came home, Dipsy was always there to scratch his wool clothes. He went through about a scarf every few days in the winter. Mackelmore became his Messiah.
This time, however, there was no deathly scraping noise. There were no satisfied meows to assuage that noise either. Poe searched around. Dipsy's bed was empty. The couch was desolate. Poe's room was dark and quiet, and the sheets were not ruffled and housing a mischievous ball of fur with a Teletubby's name.
Dipsy was gone.
Poe was a mess. Still, he understood. He knew all too well why Dipsy had left. You see cats are smart. They don't need your affection. They certainly don't ask for any favors or hand any out. And they aren't annoying enough to feel compelled to follow you around. They can think for themselves, almost. They understand that, when people push them aside, they aren't wanted anymore. Their purpose has been taken away, and they, like most creatures, don't appreciate being cast aside. Poe knew how that felt better than anyone. He simply forgot.
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